


Surefooted Stumblings

by MatildaSwan



Category: Thick of It (UK)
Genre: Adultery, Bollocking, Explicit Language, F/F, I managed to femslash my most hetro show, points for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaSwan/pseuds/MatildaSwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’d made it most of the way up the street before Sam tripped on a pebble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surefooted Stumblings

**Author's Note:**

> ttoi kinkmeme: Sam takes pity on Nicola after a particularly harsh bollocking from Malcolm.

Nicola Murray _should_ have been at home, glass of red in hand as the children nattering on about their day. She should have reading at the table as James sulked about the kitchen. She should be in her pyjamas, fluffy cotton tickling her skin as she stretched out on her lounge and relaxed.

Instead, she was still in Malcolm’s office receiving, what she was quiet sure, was the bollocking of her career. 

“You’re a colossal fuckup! How someone like you manages to get out of the bed in the morning without garrotting themselves on the fucking curtain ties, I just don’t understand! Never mind not knowing your arse from your elbow, you don’t even know the difference between your mouth and your own fucking arsehole! But given the amount of shit that spews out of gaping hole you try to form words with, shit you vomit all over me excepting me to fucking clean it up, I’m really not even fucking surprised. Bet your husband has a fucking field day with your orifice confusion though.” 

Just as Nicola thought Malcolm was actually properly going to explode in front of her, showering her with blood and innards as well as spit, he fell in on himself and burnt out.

“I can’t even stand the sight of you,” tone cutting like glass. He turned on his heel and swished out the door.

Nicola stayed sat and stared at the grain of Malcolm’s desk; hands clasped by her side to mask the shaking. She blinked furiously, breathing deeply to try and steady her pulse. A few minutes passed and she felt the anxiety start to ebb away. She unclenched her hands and dropped her shoulder, slumping against the back of the chair. 

Then she heard the floorboards creak behind her.

Nicola’s heart leapt out of her mouth; she shot up and spun, tripping over her own feet, walloping her back against the desk. Excepting to see Malcolm back for another round of verbal evisceration and possibly a pound of her flesh, Nicola almost fainted with relief when she recognised Sam.

“Fuck, I thought you were Malcolm!” Nicola gasped, clutching at her ribs as she found her feet again.  
“Only me. I came in to see if you were alright?” soft tone and tiny smile: so comforting and sweet after the clusterfuck of an irate Malcolm Tucker. “That was a bad one.”

“You can fucking say that again!” snorting out her nose. Nicola paused for a moment, staring at the floor and then back up to Sam. “I don’t understand why he’s _this_ worked up. I mean, it was a cock up, but it wasn’t _that_ horrendous. He didn’t even mention resignation. He’s bailed us, _me_ , out of worse before, without looking like his temples are going to squirt everywhere.”

“He’s having a bad day,” Sam tired to explain, before pausing; brow creased. “Actually he’s been like this all week. I saw him throw a Satsuma at Julius yesterday.” Nicola nodded with a grim smile as she pushed off the table.

“Yeah, I heard about that. I’m ashamed to say I laughed at the time. It’s less funny now I’ve been at the receiving end.” Nicola huffed, bending down to grab her bag. As she stood the full effect of todays continuous shit storm hit her. Her head lolled back, exacerbated growl clawing its way out of her throat. 

“Fuck me, I could use a drink,” rubbing the bridge of her nose. She dropped her hand back beside her, offering a small smiled to the woman standing in the centre of the room. “Thanks for seeing if I was alright.” Nicola took a few steps towards the door, before turning back. “Umm, would…” unsure and impulsive. “Would you like to join me?” 

Sam smiled. “Sure, I’ll just grab my coat.”

*

“I’ve never seen a grown man so close to pissing himself!” Sam howled, setting Nicola off a flailing giggle fit that continued until she started squeaking and kicked the table. 

“Oops,” Nicola chuckled, liquid sloshing over the table as she tried to figuring out the safest position for her feet to rest under the table. Nodding towards Sam, “you had the right idea.” Sam smirked with smug pride; her cider saved from spillage, having kept her drink rather close to her mouth. 

A crash and a shout came from the other end of the room. The two women turned to see a disgruntled bloke scowling at his now empty pint glass and soggy shoes while his mates howled around him, singing “taxi!” 

One of the chanters caught them staring, and smiled, throwing back the remains in his glass. Nicola smiled back, drunk and happy; Sam simply watched as he ambled over to them.

“Hey, I don’t want to intrude,” Scottish accent thickened with larger, eyes fixed on Sam. “But I was wondering if you’d like a drink?”  
“That’s very kind, but we’re right, thanks.” Sam brandished her glass, still half full. 

“No harm in asking,” He smiled, looking back over his shoulders. “Sorry about the noise though. Anyway, enjoy the rest of your night,” and stumbled back to his mates.

“What’d you do that for?” Nicola slurred, girlish gleam in her eye. “He was fit!”

“No, absolutely not my type, not anymore,” Sam dismissed, shaking her head. “And no more Scots, not after the last one,” she paused. “You take him!”

“Husband,” Nicola looked down at her ring. “Not that it matters really, I’m sure he’s sleeping with his secretary,” dejected and forlorn. “No way would he keep her round unless he was shagging her. She’s completely useless,” Glummy Mummy was back. Sam had thought she’d left the building after Nicola had down that second whisky. “Besides, he was staring at you!” smiling again, Nicola attempted to made some serious headway with what was left of her pint. “Anyway, what were we talking about again, Malcolm bollocking your ex for being a twat?”

Sam laughed, putting her glass back on the table with a clunk. She continued to describe in minute detail how her boss had verbally castrated the sleaze ball, much to Nicola’s delight. 

“You get way too much pleasure out of Malcolm getting angry at other people,” Sam joked. 

“Yeah, I probably do. But have you seen the faces people pull when he threaten them with bodily harm? It’s hilarious!” she shrieked. “As long as it’s not my body, anyway,” pseudo solemn for a moment. Sam nodded, downing the last of her drink before cocking an expectant eyebrow at Nicola. The brunette huffed, and chugged hers down too, slamming it back on the table with a thump. 

“Tomorrow is going to be bloody marvellous,” staring at the bubbles left in the bottom of the glass. “You know what would be great?” smiling as the cogs in her brain churned. “Tequila shots!”

Sam should have been slightly terrified, or at least curious as to how Nicola had managed to cram both Malcolm’s persuasive and determined faces inside her eyes; she was more preoccupied with the warm hand clasping hers, wrenching her towards the bar with a snort.

*

It was chilly outside, for all it wasn’t that late, as they walked towards the corner to hail a cab. Nicola noticed her breath fogging the air and shivered, drawing her coat tighter around her neck. Sam stumbled slightly, and slung her arm around the shorter woman’s neck for support, pulling her into her side. Nicola snuggled into Sam’s side, grateful for the additional warmth, and shuffled along as best she could. 

They’d made it most of the way up the street before Sam tripped on a pebble, falling sideways and slamming them both into the wall. They burst out laughing as they tried to right themselves, arms and legs flailing. Nicola staggered in her heels and finally righted her feet. Sam’s hands found some purchase on the brick. Either side of Nicola’s head, body pinning her to the wall; their thighs parted and pressed together.

Nicola looked up, drunken grin disappearing as she realised Sam’s face was barely inched from hers. A moment passed, tense and unsure; eyes locked as they both held their breath. Nicola’s hand wrapped itself around Sam’s waist, fingers tangling themselves in hair and they were kissing: frenzied and frantic, stone wall biting into Sam’s palms and Nicola’s back. 

Sam could taste scotch on the other woman tongue, heady and intoxicating, and moaned into her mouth. Her hand worked its way inside Nicola’s coat, brushing against her breast; Nicola whimpered and pulled Sam closer, tightening her grip on the younger woman’s hip as she ground down on Sam’s thigh. 

They broke apart with a groan, slightly breathless; swollen lips and lust filled eyes. Sam opened her mouth to silence, mind fumbling to construct words. Nicola gaped at her, until her eyes flicked towards the road and she pushed off the wall and past Sam. Nicola waved an arm, hailing down a cab passing them; turning back to younger woman, hand outstretched as the taxi pulled up.

“Come on then,” Nicola’s impish smirk shone in the gloom. “Back to your place?”


End file.
